


That Smell

by Liena67



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Episode: s02e01 A Scandal in Belgravia, F/M, Sensuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 12:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15908703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liena67/pseuds/Liena67
Summary: this oneshot was born from a thought, a prompt once said by someone on Tumblr, a thought too good not to transform it.Irene and Sherlock's coat





	That Smell

It is not the first time that she escapes from a dangerous situation, lowering herself from a window. No coincidence that in her bathroom she has equipped a rope and a suitable support for a possible sudden escape. And it will not be the last time either. After all, with her work she has to be foresight. Not that her clients have ever created problems, with them she has total domination, control over their minds, their desires and later on their bodies.

But her profession can pound the feet to those who gravitate around her clients. The husband, boyfriend, father on duty, more rarely a wife or daughter, always ready to defend the family honor. Because dealing with a dominatrix, a woman like her, sexually free and certainly unconventional, in this society so false and hypocritical, can be a cause for great embarrassment.

But it had never happened until now, to find herself naked and wrapped in a coat of a man, whose scent is causing her a series of chills.

Irene Aldler, escaped from the bathroom of her house, sees in her mind that intense look, those curls so black and rebellious, those cheekbones so inviting, and wonders what is happening to her. She has never been particularly sensitive to male charm, she has always preferred women in her life, yet for almost two hours she cannot think of anything else. That deep voice seems to have entered her soul somehow. Perhaps because for the first time she seemed to look at herself in the mirror, as if she had seen, in those green and penetrating eyes, Irene Adler, not The Woman, but the real and deeper Irene.

Once she reaches a safe house, she closes the door behind her, leaving only the tension to diminish. She drops the keys on a shelf and, feeling all the weariness now assail her, she heads for the bedroom. Once she arrives near the bed, intending to take off the coat, she puts a hand in the pocket to get her phone and Sherlock's phone. She had noticed that she had it, and only took the phone to place it on the bedside table, but instead she remains staring at it. It is unlocked and she did not notice it. Evidently somehow, maybe a system error, it did not go on stand-by, the last time he had to use it.

A slight smile appears on her face and an idea is formed in the mind. Her plan is to find a way to convince him to voluntarily decrypt a code that is hidden on her phone. But Sherlock is an extremely intelligent and strong man, not easily manipulated, difficult to seduce. But for this reason, he is a challenge for her, an intriguing challenge.

Irene relaxes on the bed without taking off the coat and still looking at Sherlock's phone, with that particular smile on her lips, she registers her number in the phone book, then accesses the ringtone customizations and chooses to record an audio.

Laying the phone on the pillow by her side, she sucks hard, feeling the intense scent of this man in her nostrils, closes her eyes and in her mind, she sees his lips, those lips so full. She wonders how soft they can be to kiss and at that moment her own lips were parted. She just opens the coat with one hand and imagines his hands, those violinist hands, those long and tapered fingers. She wonders what she would feel like if those hands now touched her breasts and at that moment Irene's hand caresses her own breasts, her nipples, while slowly the rhythm of her breathing increases.

Irene imagines she feels his smooth skin under her hands, kisses his lips, his cheekbones, feels his tongue run down her neck and her breasts, she feels his hands go down and at that moment Irene's hand caresses her own belly until she reaches her clitoris which, to her surprise, is already incredibly swollen. A first moan comes out of her throat and she imagines his moans, that deep voice that whispers her name, the body harmonious and powerful at the same time. Irene's fingers increase the speed of her caress and when they enter her, she imagines that she feels him enter with vigor and at that moment, with a hoarse and broken moan, she reaches her climax.

When her breathing returns to normal, Irene takes the phone left on the pillow, listens again to the recording, cuts the audio to leave only a single moan, applies it as a text ringtone for her messages and smiling, after closing the phone and having left it on the pillow, she closes her eyes to allow herself a little rest.

* * *

The joke that The Woman made with the ringtone of her messages is still making John laugh, who has remained in the living room while he has returned to the bedroom to get dressed. Definitely Irene Adler, he thinks, is the most incredible woman he has ever met. Smart, determined, self-confident, cunning, shameless, charming and sensual.

Sherlock stops for a moment in the middle of the room reflecting on these last words. Fascinating and sensual, they are not adjectives that he often uses, in fact he hardly ever uses them. Yet it is what he thinks, definitely and without any doubt he is thinking about it. And it was not the fact that she showed up naked to hit him, but rather why she acted in this way, to destabilize him, to prevent him from deducing her as he usually does. She was waiting for him and had studied, studied and understood him. This particular in his eyes is the feature that makes her so incredibly fascinating, because in those eyes so blue and deep, he saw himself, the real Sherlock, whom no one really sees in his entirety.

John's voice calling him from the living room distracts him from these thoughts and he takes the coat hanging behind the door, the one Irene brought back to him the night before. He wears it and suddenly is assailed by a strong and intense perfume, sweet and pungent, a smell that causes an immediate and inexplicable reaction of the body, an electric shock that crosses him, as it had never happened before.

His eyes widen in surprise. It is her scent mixed with the smell of her skin that fills his nostrils, but it is also something else, something that his mind does not recognize, but which somehow instinctively his body seems to know.

Standing in the middle of his bedroom, Sherlock closes his eyes, remembers that she was wearing only his coat on her naked body, thinks of the ringing she has recorded and a slight smile appears on his face. Yes, definitely that woman is unique. He does not know if this is good or bad, but he never pulls back to the challenges.

He opens his eyes, closes his coat around his body, sucks hard and with a sigh, shaking his head, leaves the room, regaining control over himself and showing again that enigmatic expression, with which he always manages to hide from everyone what he feels in his deepest soul. To everyone, yes, but maybe not to her.  



End file.
